


better in picture

by fnowae



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Gave up on the title, M/M, Werewolves, idk what else to say abt this, was gonna use an unreleased song but none of em really fit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 05:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fnowae/pseuds/fnowae
Summary: Anonymous said:OK but Poly fob werewolf au - Joe, Pete & Andy get bitten by werewolves walking to their hotel after the 2005 grammy afterparty. Patrick, who left the grammies early bc he was mad about Kanye losing, is now the only human in the band and makes sure everyone is okay on the bus during full moon nights.---Patrick is mad about a lot of things right now, but mostly he's mad that this makes so much sense.





	better in picture

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't the first poly fob werewolf prompt I've gotten. But it's my favorite. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Patrick has had a fucking wild evening. 

He doesn't feel the need to explain every reason why, but the fact that he's just finished crying over a sandwich because of Kanye West, of all things, should probably summarize most of it. He doesn't want to have to deal with anything else tonight. He's done. He's going to go back to the hotel room and complain briefly to his boyfriends before falling asleep with them and pretending today didn't happen. He is very good at that - the pretending things didn't happen part, and also the complaining to his boyfriends part. 

Patrick is pretty sure the universe is working against him, because firstly, he bumps into not one, not two, but somehow _five_ fans on the way to the hotel, and as he struggles to hold friendly conversation rather than get pissed the fuck off like he'd really like to, he also trips over his own feet a total of three times. This night really isn't working out for him. 

Then, when he finally gets into the hotel, miraculously still alive, and heads up to the room, the keycard won't work. It takes him way too long to realize he's at the wrong room - their room is 325, and he's been trying to get into 235. Feeling like an idiot, but grateful that no one in the room actually opened the door, Patrick takes the elevator up another floor, then slides the keycard to thankfully receive a satisfying whirr that indicates that it worked this time, and pushes the door open with high hopes that his horrible night might finally get a little better. 

Of course, he has no such luck. 

The first thing that strikes him when he walks into the room is that the bed is currently occupied by fucking _wolves_. 

Patrick wishes he was kidding. He really does. But he isn't. There are three actual, living, real goddamn wolves just sitting on the bed, for some fucking reason. As if this night wasn't crazy enough already. Sure. Wolves on the bed.

There's a brown one with tangled fur hogging all the pillows (and possibly sleeping, Patrick is too scared to actually go closer and check), a darker brown one sitting calmly on one side and regarding Patrick carefully, and a third, jet black one, seated to the right of the aforementioned dark brown one, who seems to perk up and fucking _wags its tail_ the second Patrick walks in. 

Patrick doesn't know whether to be confused, amazed, or terrified. He decides to settle for a nice mix of the three. 

"What the actual fuck?" he blurts out, as if he expects the wolves - fucking wolves, what the fuck! - to actually answer. Of course, they don't, but the black one does leap off the bed and run towards Patrick. 

This is terrifying. This is absolutely terrifying. But apparently Patrick's fight or flight instinct is broken, because he doesn't try to run, and he certainly doesn't try to defend himself. He simply stands there, frozen by a concoction of shock and fear, watching as the wolf walks up to him and just sits down six inches in front of him, looking up almost expectantly. 

"What the fuck!" Patrick repeats, trying to back away, but only succeeding in hitting a wall. The black wolf just continues to stare at him intently. 

The wolf on the pillows - who Patrick is now certain was definitely asleep - stirs, probably awoken by Patrick's loud exclamation. The wolf sits up sleepily, turning to look Patrick dead on and immediately perking up just like the black one had. 

Patrick wags a warning finger, narrowing his eyes defensively. "Oh no you don't. Don't you fucking dare come at me. Don't you fucking dare."

The wolf looks dejected, almost, but to Patrick's surprise, it complies, laying its head back down on the pillows while still holding its stare on Patrick. Patrick is amazed at first, but then he remembered he's supposed to be terrified, and goes back to doing that. 

"I - I really don't know what the fuck is going on here, I-" Fuck, Patrick isn't even sure what he's trying to say. What is he doing trying to talk to the random wolves in his hotel room, anyway? Shouldn't he being calling, like, animal control, or the police, or the president? One of those three is probably correct. God, he's sure if Pete were here the idiot would be trying to feed the things, and-

Wait. That brings up another very good question. _Where the fuck are his boyfriends?_

Patrick surveys the room blankly, taking in the wolf on the pillows, the one still sitting nicely on the bed, and the one staring expectantly up at him from a foot away. Patrick puts two and two together as slowly and reluctantly as he can manage. 

Wait, no, no, no, _no_. He's absolutely not considering - not considering _that_ as a possibility. That is absolutely not possible. These random wolves are not his boyfriends because there is no such thing as a werewolf and it's probably not even a full moon tonight anyways, right?

All it takes is one glance out the window to prove his hopes wrong. Well, shit, okay, but the concept is still ridiculous and he refuses to believe it. 

Besides, he's hung out with them on full moons before. Plenty of times. He's sure he has. In fact, he just did tonight! They weren't werewolves earlier, he's sure of it. And his boyfriends trust him. They'd have told him if they had some big secret like, oh, he doesn't know, _secretly being fantasy creatures_ , right? (That's just hypothetical. He's just throwing ideas out here. He's not saying that it's true. He's just saying, they would.)

Just the same, Patrick can't stop himself from asking cautiously, unsure whether it's a good idea to even try, "Guys...?"

He gets a reaction immediately. The black wolf in front of him perks up and jumps forward again, nearly giving Patrick a heart attack as he pushes the poor guy up against the wall, but Patrick can't help but see now that the behavior is undeniably _Pete_. The sleepy wolf on the pillows brings his head up again, looking fucking relieved, and Patrick knows in an instant that what he'd perceived as super-tangled fur is really just Joe's eternally-tangled curls, which he's brushed his hand through so many nights lying in bed. And that leaves the eerily calm wolf on the edge of the bed, still regarding Patrick warmly, as Andy. 

Patrick is mad about a lot of things right now, but mostly he's mad that this makes so much sense.

"Get off me," he complains, pushing the over-enthusiastic Pete away and taking a hesitant step forward. He surveys the room of wolves again and groans. "Jesus, I don't even think I want to know."

Of course, he doesn't get a response. Fucking figures. He supposes he'll have to wait until tomorrow, at which point he has some very strong complaints to give. 

But for now, he kicks off his shoes, stalks across the room as annoyedly as he can manage (with Pete trailing right behind) and does his best to climb into the bed like nothing is wrong. 

It's kind of hard to do that when he can't use the pillows because of the huge wolf-that-is-also-his-boyfriend who has promptly fallen asleep on them again, and when half the bed is taken up by another wolf-that-is-also-his-boyfriend, and also when the third wolf-that-is-also-his-boyfriend makes a point of jumping up onto the bed and laying directly on him, limiting his movement almost completely, but Patrick is too tired and emotionally drained to care anymore. 

"I'm going to be really fucking mad at all of you in the morning," he informs them warningly. "But for now I don't have the energy to feel anything except tired."

He gets absolutely no response, so he hesitantly allows himself to fall asleep. 

///

When Patrick wakes up, it's with the energy to be pissed, and also surrounded by his fully human and _fully fucking naked_ boyfriends. 

"Okay, I decided to be pissed now!" he declares, rolling out of bed, which isn't very easy, as it requires pushing Pete off of him first. And when he does make it off, he ends up tumbling to the ground, landing painfully on his ass. 

"Aw, come on, we've been dating for almost a _year_ , don't act like you've never seen us naked before!" Pete's annoyingly chipper voice comes from the bed. 

Patrick groans, sitting up. "Yeah, but this time I have _questions_."

"Oh." This time it's Joe who's speaking, and he sounds kind of worried. Patrick is kind of fucking worried too, thank you very much. 

"Put some fucking clothes on and meet me in the lobby in ten minutes. We're talking about this," Patrick commands, climbing to his feet and exiting the room swiftly before he can have second thoughts and turn back. 

On the way to the lobby, he forces back increasingly wild thoughts about the situation. In daylight, it looks all the more ridiculous. His boyfriends are...what, werewolves? And since when? He would've known about this, right? What the fuck is going on?

Patrick shakes his head in a vague attempt to clear his thoughts, entering the lobby for the reason he'd wanted to talk here in the first place: free hotel breakfast. 

He grabs a plate and loads it with pancakes and eggs and toast, then chooses a table for four away from where everyone else is sitting - privacy is important if they're going to have this conversation - and digs in. 

It's less than ten minutes before his boyfriends show up, thankfully dressed and looking sort of sheepish. Which, Patrick thinks, is a funny word to use in this situation. 

The second they sit down, Patrick sets his fork down neatly, looks each one of them in the eye in turn, then deadpans, "So, what, you're werewolves?"

There's a brief period of uncomfortable silence where Patrick continues to make as much eye contact as he possibly can when he's trying to maintain it with three people simultaneously.

"Uh...yeah?" It's Pete who finally breaks the silence with a tentative response. Patrick's head snaps to him as soon as he hears the reply. 

"Since fucking when?" he asks, cringing when his voice comes out unnecessarily accusatory. 

"Since last night, actually," Andy says quietly, and Patrick turns to face him instead. 

"Okay, so, uh, next question...what the hell happened last night?" he asks, cursing how rude his tone is again, but unable to stop it. 

Joe speaks up this time, as if they've all somehow agreed to take turns with their explanations. He begins, eyeing Patrick warily, "We were walking home together, and, uh...we kind of got attacked."

"By werewolves," Patrick finishes, aware that his face is a mask of disbelief, despite having every reason to believe this. 

"By werewolves," Joe agrees quietly, his gaze dropping down to the table. "You, uh...you're lucky you left early. You would've been there too."

"Huh." Patrick considers this for a moment, and finds that he really doesn't care. He tells them this much. "Wow, I, uh, I really don't think I care. This is...not even actually the weirdest thing that's happened in this band."

"I mean, you're not wrong," Pete mutters, shaking his head and reminiscing distantly, "That's the last time I agree on a bet for two cents and a Serrano chili." 

Patrick looks down to his food, picking his fork back up and poking at the pancakes, though he's doing it more to occupy his hands than to actually eat. He thinks for another moment, then says, "Uh, okay. Cool."

"Cool?" Joe asks skeptically. " _Cool_? Dude, _we_ haven't even decided to be okay with this yet. And you're just... _cool_."

"Sure." Patrick shrugs. "I mean, this isn't really a problem, right? Like, I suppose not all mythology is gonna be true to life, but theoretically this is only a problem on full moons, right?"

After a moment of silence, Pete answers, "Uh...yes?"

"Okay. Then we can work around that. It's cool." Patrick shrugs again, and stuffs a bite of pancakes into his mouth to indicate that he's said all he needs to say. 

"Patrick," Andy says after another beat of silence, "You are the fucking best."

"I know," Patrick responds, then chuckles and adds, "I'd be a fucking asshole if I wasn't tolerant of the fact that my boyfriends are maybe, kind of werewolves, right?"

"I mean...sure," Pete concedes, eyebrows raised skeptically but eyes thankful. 

"You'd also be a fucking asshole not to share your pancakes," Joe comments, waving a hand towards Patrick's still piled high plate. 

Patrick makes a noise of disgust. "I don't care if you've spent the past twelve hours dealing with becoming werewolves, my pancakes are my damn pancakes. Get your own food."

Joe makes a face, but relents, standing up and heading off to the breakfast buffet. Pete and Andy follow behind shortly after. 

Patrick smiles softly as he watches them go. So what if they're maybe, kind of werewolves? He still loves them. And that's never gonna change.

**Author's Note:**

> as always pLEASE hmu up on tumblr (@vicesandvelociraptors) with headcanons for this AU I love it and I would die if y'all did
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
